


All In

by TheBigCat



Category: Youth & Consequences (Web Series)
Genre: Friendship, Gambling, Gen, Unrealistic Portrayal Of High School, episode fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-04-29 00:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14461338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBigCat/pseuds/TheBigCat
Summary: A close-to-home problem leads to Farrah and Colin undertaking an unusual and somewhat illegal task for a friend’s sake.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this fic isn't as complete as I would have liked it to be, and the reason for that is this: I actually have no idea how to write these characters. I went into writing this story with a full, rather complicated, outline, and several original characters that were fully fleshed out - but I didn't anticipate that I'd actually be unable to write the canonical characters' speech and actions, and... basically everything?? 
> 
> so I'm sorry if anybody (or everybody) seems out of character. i'm not a popular teenage American girl, and I don't know how they talk or act (and I don't really know what American schools are like, either, so there's that.) 
> 
> But overall, I kind of enjoyed writing this story. I hope you'll enjoy reading what there is of it - and ignore any glaring plotholes.

**Tuesday**

**8.25AM**

* * *

 

Even from a fair distance away, Farrah could see it – Jayne-with-a-Y was crying.

It was the ugly sort of crying too; tears sliding down her cheeks and knees pulled up to her chest. Her hair wasn’t exactly dishevelled, really, but it definitely looked as if she hadn’t put as much effort into it as usual. And that wasn’t to mention the frankly appalling sweater the poor girl was wearing. Comfort clothes, most likely. Well, that _really_ didn’t bode well, did it?

Farrah quickly ran through a mental list of possibilities of who and/or what could have caused Jayne; bright, strong, sarcastic, _untouchable_ Jayne, to be reduced to sobbing on an abandoned stairwell five minutes before first period. It wasn’t a very long or very comprehensive list. Farrah’s frown, already present on her face since seeing Jayne, deepened, and then she forcibly schooled her features into something more neutral and normal. She tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear, straightened her collar, and pulled herself up to her full height, before striding with purpose in Jayne’s direction.

She ascended the stairs briskly, being sure to make just enough noise to alert Jayne to her presence as she did so.

Jayne, predictably, looked up with a start at Farrah’s appearance, and hastily pulled a sleeve across her eyes, wiping the tears from her face. She made what appeared to be a concerted effort to pull herself together. “…Farrah,” she croaked, apparently trying to sound casual. “Hey. Did you need something?”

Despite her red, watery eyes, and somewhat ashen appearance, her makeup, Farrah noted, was still utterly immaculate. _Thank God for waterproof mascara._ “I didn’t see you this morning out the front of the school.” She delicately took a seat on the step above Jayne, crossing her right leg neatly over her left.

“Yeah. Sorry.” Jayne’s eyes darted. Back and forth, unwilling to meet Farrah’s gaze. “Got… busy. Couldn’t use the car, had to take the bus. What’d I miss?”

“Nothing worth noting,” Farrah told her. “The Crotch ran a petty exposé on the music department’s inability to gain funds for the new auditorium. But you can read up on that later.”

“Cool,” said Jayne, and wiped erratically at her eyes again, burying her face momentarily in the soft-looking grey fabric of her jumper. 

There was really no other way to do it, since Jayne was apparently feeling no such inclination to start the conversation. Farrah clenched her fists ever-so-slightly by her sides, and then breathed out slowly. Time to dive right in, then. “You’re obviously not all right.”

There was a brief silence, and then Jayne turned her head slowly away from Farrah, choosing to stare fixedly at the wall. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

Farrah ignored that, and let a tiny, _miniscule_ amount of the concern that she was currently feeling leak into her voice. “Come on, talk to me, Jayne.”

“Talk? To _you_?” Jayne let out a tiny, choked noise that might have actually been a laugh. “ _You,_ suggesting _we_ talk? What universe have I – ”

The bell for class rang, and both girls winced slightly at the abrasive yet depressingly regular sound. From what seemed like a very long distance away indeed, the sound of hundreds of students slamming lockers shut, chatting with friends and proceeding loudly and noisily to class could be heard.

“Jayne, come on,” said Farrah when the sounds had at least vaguely receded. “I know I’m not Plain or Hurley…”

She trailed off, waiting. Left a silence for Jayne to fill in, knowing that she eventually would.

“My family’s going to have to move in, like, a month,” Jayne said finally, uncharacteristically softly, staring down at her intertwined fingers. “Away from, you know, here. To Maine, with my grandparents, probably. Mom can’t keep paying for Dad’s medical bills and keep renting the house at the same time – she was considering buying it permanently, that would have helped, but – we just don’t have the money to spare.”

“How much?”

“I - uh?” Jayne looked somewhat startled by the question at first, but then almost seemed to look more depressed, sinking down deeper and curling her arms around her knees. “Two-fifty grand, I think.”

“Shit,” Farrah muttered, puffing out a long breath of air.

“Yeah.” Jayne bowed her head and closed her eyes, rocking herself back and forth slowly. “I know this school’s, well – you know. And I probably shouldn’t care as much as I do, b-but.” Her voice cracked, just a bit. “I. Don’t want to go. Not like this. I’ve found myself, and then there’s you guys, and – and…”

Farrah slid over, scooting herself along and then down the steps so she was sitting right next to Jayne, and tugged her friend into a careful, tight hug. “I know. God, I know.”

Jayne’s hands hovered in the air for maybe a split second before she returned the embrace with vigour. They were silent for a moment or two, Farrah’s fingers tracing tiny, indistinct patterns on Jayne’s back, and then Jayne spoke up again. “Farrah…”

“Mm.”

“I… I know it’s _stupid_ , but – ” Farrah could hear Jayne audibly swallow. “…there’s absolutely no way I’m not going to end up living in Maine by next month, since there’s no way we could ever get the money in time, and there’s nothing you can do to help. But… I still can’t help thinking that you’re going to come up with a ridiculously convoluted plan and… you know. Save the day. At the last moment. Like you usually do.”

Farrah was silent.

“…sorry,” Jayne said, drawing back and turning her face away. “That’s – that’s a lot of pressure. I shouldn’t be holding you up to that – ”

_Worst case scenario: You don’t get the money in time. Jayne moves away to Maine; you need to find a new fourth player for bridge. Could be a bit messy, but it’ll most likely be easy enough; you can’t be the only bridge players in the entire school –_ Jayne _. Think about Jayne. You can talk via Skype no matter where she is. But you might fall out of touch. Online friendships never last as well, especially once she finds new friends in Maine. It’s possible that you might forget about her entirely after a while. Jayne? Jayne who?_

_Best case scenario: Jayne stays._

_Jayne is a competent hacker and a good source of information and contacts; losing her would be a waste of valuable resources. There are no other immediate benefits or outcomes to her staying. Attempting to get two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in less than a month is going to be ridiculously time-consuming, and there’s no guarantee that you’ll even be able to accomplish it. Maybe it’ll be better off, in the grand scheme of things, if you just let her go?_

“I don’t – ” Farrah began, turning to face Jayne.

_(Jayne.)_

_(Jayne is your friend.)_

_(Jayne just looked at you like you could turn the tides on a second’s notice. Like you could hang the stars in the sky and she thinks you can save her. And, knowing you, you probably can, can’t you?)_

_(If you let her down, you’re going to hate yourself for the rest of your life.)_

_((Well, shit.))_

“ – know if I’m the right person to be asking for financial support,” Farrah said, hastily correcting herself and forcing a smile onto her face that she hoped would become genuine in the next few seconds, “but I think I might be able to do something about your situation.” She almost reached out to frame Jayne’s face with her hands, to brush a hand along her cheek, but restrained herself. _No, too much._ “Just… hang in there.”

Jayne looked over at her with vast amounts of scepticism clear on her face. But there were definitely trace amounts of hope there. “Farrah… you’re not…”

“I am,” she said. The smile became real then; a self-assured, smug little thing that probably looked devastatingly attractive from the outside. Oh, it was more than a little ridiculous, but she rather liked having an impossible goal to accomplish. “Or… I will.”

“I was joking,” said Jayne.

“You didn’t sound like you were joking.”

“Okay, so I was desperate.” Jayne frowned, or tried to, but it was almost like she couldn’t make herself. She settled for looking quietly worried instead. “You can’t help everybody, Farrah.”

“Don’t worry.” Farrah stood up, and bestowed upon Jayne her most bright, confident grin, the one that convinced teachers to give her just those extra few days’ extension to hand an assignment in. She brushed her hair back, and straightened her blouse decisively. “I have a plan.”


	2. Chapter 2

**9 AM**

* * *

 

 “I don’t have a plan.”

Colin Cowher glanced up from his phone, somewhat startled, as Farrah headed up the empty aisles of the upper auditorium seating towards him with a grim look on her face and tear-stains all over her designer shirt. His fingers stalled over the screen for a second, and then he hurriedly placed it down on his lap. “I… um, _alright._ Did… something happen that I should know about?”

They were both skipping class, but that was nothing unusual in and of itself – they were both plenty smart enough to keep up with the course material without having to set foot in a classroom. Farrah chose the seat next to him and practically fell into it, dropping her handbag to the ground. “Do you mean that _you_ should know about, or that the Crotch should know about?”

“Yes. No. Both. I don’t know.” He eyed her sideways, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Does it matter?”

“A bit.” Farrah sighed, pinching the bridge of her own nose, mirroring him. “Because if you post any of the things I’m about to tell you to the blog, we will be having some _serious_ words. And possibly fists.”

His eyebrows rose markedly. “You’d fight me if I posted… any of this stuff you’ve yet to tell me?”

“No, I’d get somebody else to fight you. I’m thinking Hurley, actually.”

“Wow, um. Hurley can fight?”

Farrah’s mouth curved up slightly. “Surprisingly, yes. The girl has a mean left hook.”

“I... would never have guessed,” Colin said. “And with that in mind – no, I’m not going to leak any of whatever this is to the Crotch. Not that I would, anyway. Without your say-so. You know.” His fingers jittered nervously in a four-beat pattern against his knee. “So. What is it?”

Farrah dragged a hand across her face, and tried not to think about how tired she was. It had been a late night already, and with this on top of it… “In a minute. You have any food?”

To his credit, Colin didn’t even miss a beat. He rummaged around in his backpack for a moment or two before coming out with a brown paper bag. “PBJ sandwich. We could split?”

Farrah nodded, watching as he pulled open the bag and extracted the sandwich – handing half to her. “Thanks.”

They sat in silence for a moment or two, eating their respective halves of the mediocre sandwich.

“Long story short, I just promised Jayne-with-a-Y that I’d obtain two and a half grand before the end of the month,” Farrah said.

Colin very deliberately finished eating his half of the sandwich before he turned to her with narrowed eyes. “You did what.”

“It was an impulse move,” Farrah admitted. “In retrospect, probably not my smartest moment.”

“Yeah, I’ll say.” Colin folded his arms. “Dare I ask – how, what, _why_?”

Farrah briefly recapped Jayne’s situation to him, and her part in it, finishing with a sigh and a, “so for once in my life, I have literally no idea how to handle this situation.”

“ _Oof._ Yeah.” Colin leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming along the back of his phone case. “So you came to me looking for help? I don’t really know how I could be able to…”

“I came to you looking for somebody to bounce ideas off, actually.”

Colin frowned. “You just said you don’t have any ideas.”

“I know.”

Colin flipped over his phone, keyed in the passcode, switched to a new tab and started googling something.

“You have something?” Farrah asked, leaning forward to see what he was looking at.

Colin held up his phone. “How to Make Money, for teenagers. Four steps with pictures. _What?_ ” he added, when Farrah shot him a withering look. “You’re telling me you’ve never resorted to Wikihow for vital life advice?”

She didn’t grace that with a response, and instead pulled out her own phone. She scrolled through her contacts list for a few minutes, looking for any helpful contacts.

“I was joking,” said Colin, flipping to a new tab, and to all intents and purposes, beginning to search seriously.

“Sure.”

They worked in silence for a while, letting out sounds of _hmm_ and vague annoyance at regular intervals.

Fifteen minutes passed.

“I could gather support via the Crotch?” Colin suggested. “I mean, pretty much the whole school reads it; if we could start some kind of online fundraiser…”

“Too widespread,” Farrah rejected almost instantly, having already thought of that. “Jayne doesn’t want her affairs out in public, and neither do I. If everybody here finds out about her family’s financial situation, she’ll be better off moving to Maine in the first place.”

A few more minutes of silence. The doors in the auditorium below, and a crowd of twenty-or-so drama students came in, apparently trying to set up for an upcoming show. Farrah and Colin exchanged a brief glance and shuffled backwards into the more shadowed seatings, out of sight.

“Robbing a bank’s out of the question, right?” Farrah asked quietly, watching a girl with a _CATS_ t-shirt drag boxes and scenery around the stage at the direction of one of her peers.

“Wh – _yes, it’s out of the question._ ”

Farrah held a finger hurriedly up to her lips, glaring mildly at him until he subsided. “You don’t need to shout.”

Colin sighed, placing his phone down again. “...sorry. You were joking, right?”

Farrah shrugged in non-committal sort of way.

Colin buried his head in his hands. “When did I become your moral compass?”

“News flash, Cowher,” Farrah said, sighing, “you’ve always been my moral compass. It’s why I keep you around.”

Below, the _CATS_ t-shirt girl dropped a crate on her foot and started howling in pain. Colin winced in sympathy, and then glanced at his watch. “Oh shit. Gotta go,” he said, and leaned forward to haphazardly shove all of his belongings back into his backpack. “I’ve got Latin next, so –”

“Skipping class isn’t usually a problem for you,” Farrah said with an arched eyebrow. “For both of us, actually. You just skipped… what was it, first period Chem? – without a problem.”

“Should I be afraid that you know my timetable better than I do?” Colin wondered, almost to himself, and stood up, slinging his backpack over one shoulder and fiddling awkwardly with the strap. “Anyway, I… well, I actually enjoy Latin. You know. Ancient languages are kind of cool.”

Farrah turned her head to hide the smile that was unwillingly creeping across her face. “My god. You’re a bigger nerd than I thought you were.”

“Says the girl who probably knew fluent French when she was in second grade,” Colin retorted, surprisingly quickly, and then looked visibly embarrassed. “I mean…”

Farrah laughed, delighted despite herself. “Oh wow, you’re actually growing a backbone?” She nudged his leg with the tip of her shoe. “Get to nerd class, then. We weren’t getting anything done here, anyway.”

Colin nodded, looking a bit relieved and maybe a bit disappointed too. “I’ll text you if I think of anything. See you, um, later, hopefully?”

Farrah had already returned to her phone, but she flicked him a thumbs-up as he departed the darkened auditorium.


	3. Chapter 3

**1.30PM**

* * *

 

As it turned out, Farrah didn’t end up coming up with anything helpful and/or relevant during second period, nor did she manage to do so during recess, third, or fourth, despite her best efforts and a lot of talking to some of the more unsavoury factions of students (the ones that were much more likely to be caught being out of class than she was). Nobody had ways to gain vast amounts of money for her, at least not in ways that she was willing to consider. (And she doubted that they could pay what they said they would, anyway.)

She was beginning to think that she would have to turn to non-school avenues, and the thought made her wince. The world outside of Central Rochester High’s boundaries wasn’t hers to control or even try to manipulate – it was effectively out of her power.

It was that afternoon, however, that a stroke of good fortune finally hit upon her.

In the middle of fifth-period Biology, her phone buzzed, rather insistently, from the inside of her jacket pocket. Initially, she ignored it, but upon realizing that she actually wasn’t absorbing a single word that the teacher was saying, she slid it out of her jacket and placed it in the pages of her textbook, tilting it up so nobody could see what she was doing.

 **COLIN**  
SOLVED IT  
Sort of

 **FARRAH**  
What is it   
I’m in class Cowher

 **COLIN**  
Ya me too.  
What do you have next

 **FARRAH**  
Study period.  
Also u have Lit

 **COLIN  
** :| that’s still scary

 **FARRAH  
** ;) ;) ;) 

 **COLIN**  
Also good. u have got a meeting with somebody  
i promise it’ll help

 **FARRAH  
** Cool. Where/when ?

 **COLIN  
** :0 no questions?

 **FARRAH  
** nah I trust u

There was a brief silence from his end, and then he sent the details over. Farrah read them over, and then nodded. Mid-sixth period, behind the old auditorium. It sounded ever so slightly shady in nature, but then again, when was high school drama not?

 **COLIN**  
o yeah  
if he asks just say the C sent you. I wasn’t involved

 **FARRAH  
** thx

* * *

 

**3 PM**

* * *

 

“Hook?” Farrah said, surprised despite herself. Out of all of the people that she had thought Colin would set up a meeting with, the drug-dealer was definitely not one of them.

“ _Farrah?_ ” Hook asked, evidently just as surprised as she was. “But – wait, what are you doing here?”

“The Crotch sent me,” Farrah said, holding up her phone. “They think you can help me with a problem I have. Can you?”

“Well – um, probably.” Hook frowned, and ran a hand through his hair. “I think. Is this about the Ring?”

The word ‘Ring’ sounded like it had a capital ‘r’ tacked onto the beginning of it. “I don’t know. Is it?”

“Wait. So you don’t know what the Ring is?”

“No?”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“I – what are _you_ doing here?”

“The Crotch sent me. What about you?”

“I just told you. The Crotch _also_ sent me. Tell me about the Ring; it sounds important.”

“Uh…” Hook’s eyes darted from side to side, and then he looked at Farrah. “Let’s find somewhere more private. This is sensitive stuff.”

Farrah gave him a sideways look. “Hook. We’re behind the auditorium in the middle of sixth period on a Tuesday afternoon. There’s not much more privacy we can get – start talking.”

Hook sighed. “Fine.”

The ground wasn’t too dirty, so the two of them slid down onto the ground, backs to the wall that made up the rear half of the auditorium.

“So,” said Hook, “long story short, the Ring is an underground school gambling ring that I sometimes supply, you know, _supplies_ to.”

“A gambling ring?” Farrah said. “Like, in town, or at one of the students’ houses, or –”

“No, like literally in the school.”

“How did they hide a _gambling ring_ in the school?” Farrah blurted.

“Very carefully. Would you believe it’s actually directly underneath the music department?”

It took a moment for the penny to drop. “So when you said underground, you meant that it’s _literally_ underground. Very funny.”

“Well, it’s also figuratively underground, too,” Hook allowed. “If anybody on staff found out about it, they’d _flip._ Figuratively. But they might also flip a table literally too.”

Farrah was beginning to piece together why Colin had sent her to meet up with Hook. “So, the gambling ring. Invitation-only?”

“Believe it or not, yeah.”

“And you supply drinks?”

“Drinks, and… well, other stuff. I’m friends with the bartender.”

Farrah had gone straight into interrogation mode. “What are the stakes like?”

“Pretty… pretty high, I think. It tends to be the richer kids attending.” Hook was staring at her in that way that indicated that he was slightly terrified of whatever she was planning. “Farrah, you’re not…”

“Last question. Can you get me an invitation?”

He looked at her in silence for a second, and then sighed. “I can do better than that. I can give you the location and codeword to get in right now, if you want. But you’ve got to tell me what you’re up to first.”

“It’s Jayne,” said Farrah after a long moment, and explained the situation briefly to him before outlining the beginnings of a plan that she had already developed.

He listened to her, nodding, and then said, “fine. That’s… a decent reason. And you might even be able to pull it off. But be careful.”

Farrah grinned. “When am I not?”

“That’s a fair point,” Hook allowed.

“Just tell me what I need to do,” Farrah said.

He told her.

* * *

**5 PM**

* * *

 

Farrah slipped into her car, already dialling a familiar number and inserting the keys in the ignition at the same time. She checked to make sure the car’s Bluetooth was connected, and then pulled out of the carpark in a smooth, gravel-spraying manoeuvre.

“Hey,” she said without preamble as soon as the call connected. “It’s me.”

“ _I know it’s you; I have caller ID,_ ” said Colin over the speakers of her car.

“Good for you,” said Farrah, quirking an eyebrow at nobody in particular.

“ _How’d the meeting go?”_

Farrah allowed herself a small grin. “Pretty good, actually. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that things are going _much_ better than I anticipated.”

She could hear a mirroring grin in Colin’s voice now. “ _Aha. Another one of those famous Farrah Cutney plans, yeah?_ ”

“Possibly,” she said. “I’m going to need you to do something for me, by the way.”

“ _Of course._ ” She heard him sigh and then there was some vague shifting around from the other side of the phone. “ _Okay, what is it?_ ”

“I need you to research blackjack cheating techniques,” Farrah said. “In detail. I’m thinking card counting would be the best avenue to go down, but if you come up with something better, I’m okay with that. And it needs to be achievable, too, so keep that in mind.”

There was a very long silence. Farrah wondered for a second if Colin had hung up on her.

“ _Farrah,_ ” he said eventually. “ _What are you-_?”

“I’ll tell you when I come over later,” Farrah said, and glanced over at the dashboard clock. “How’s eight o’clock sound?”

“ _F-fine. Farah, seriously – ”_

“In that case, I’ll see you at five,” Farrah said, cutting neatly over him. “I’ve got some errands to take care of first, so I’ll go deal with those. And remember: cheating at blackjack. Research. Do it. End call,” she added, and Colin’s muffled, indistinct expletives were cut short.

* * *

 

**6.45 PM**

* * *

 

“Jayne?”

“Yeah, I’m – Farrah? Why are you – do you – have you -?”

“Yes, I’m – I think. I might have it. But I need you to do something for me, tonight.”

“I… sure. Yeah. What is it?”

“How are you with security cameras?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit 19/09/18 - apparently ao3 doesn't support emojis so like half this chapter was missing. who knew right


	4. Chapter 4

**8 PM**

* * *

 

True to form, Farrah showed up at the caravan parked outside of the Cowher residence, clad in a t-shirt and jeans, and carrying several large, rather lumpy bags, as well as a roll-up mattress. Her arrival didn’t go unmissed, either, because moments after her car pulled up, the principal of her high school – also known as Colin’s mom – emerged from the house, looking rather exhausted.

“Hello, Farrah,” she said, sipping at her mug of coffee and leaning against the side of the caravan. “Planning on moving in?”

“Just a sleepover, Principal Cowher,” Farrah said, with a not-entirely sincere smile. “Colin and I had a biology presentation we didn’t manage to finish today. We thought it might be easier to just get it done tonight, and my mother’s out of town for the next few days, so…” Literally all blatant lies. Farrah had never been more pleased with her rather excellent poker face.

“Hm,” said Principal Cowher, and raised an eyebrow. She didn’t seem sceptical yet, which was always a bonus. “He didn’t mention this to me.”

“He didn’t? Must have slipped his mind.” Farrah shrugged nonchalantly, and then added, in a calculatedly hesitant manner: “you don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not,” she said, smiling. _And mission complete. She’s bought it._ “All in the name of schoolwork, I suppose?”

“Well, I did bring Chinese,” Farrah said, shifting the bags aside to display a plastic carrier full of takeaway. “We were going to eat – sorry if you had something planned for dinner.”

“Not at all. It’ll be a relief to take a break from doing the dishes.” Another sip of the coffee, and a deep sigh. “It’s nice to see Colin interacting with kids his ages, actually – I can’t thank you enough. You really seem to bring out the best in people.”

Farrah smiled again. “Well, I try.” And then she felt obliged to add: “Colin’s a good guy. I like hanging out with him.”

Principal Cowher smiled back, genuinely, and straightened up. “I’m glad to hear you think so. I’ll leave you kids alone, then. Try not to get up to too much… mischief.”

Farrah waved goodbye, watched as she re-entered the house, and then turned to the caravan door. She twisted the screwdriver with a free hand, tugging the broken lock into place so she could open the door properly, and then manoeuvred herself and her ten-plus bags into the relative safety of the caravan.

“Hey,” she greeted him. “Your mom thinks we’re fucking.”

“But… we’re not?” Colin said instantly, looking wide-eyed and sounding hilariously unsure.

“Yes, I _am_ aware of that.” She dumped most of her bags on the floor, and began kicking them to the side to make space for them to move around, handing the one containing vast amounts of Chinese food to Colin. “However, _she_ isn’t. And she seems oddly okay with it, as a matter of fact.”

“That’s – that’s. Kind of weird. I don’t want to think about it.” Colin took a deep breath. “Also, a _sleepover?_ Really?”

“Yes, really,” Farrah said, and located her sleeping bag in the mess. She began to unroll it. “It works as a cover, and it’s also convenient, considering the circumstances.”

Colin hovered. “But… a sleepover. _Really?_ ”

“What,” she said, pausing and tilting her head at him, “you’ve never had a sleepover before?”

He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot for a moment, and then took a seat on the couch. “Never had anybody to invite over. Or to invite _me_ over, as a matter of fact.”

Farrah raised her eyebrows. “Then we’ll have to make this an excellent first one, for your sake.”

Colin rolled his eyes, but there was a trace of a smile on his face.

“We can braid each other’s hair, talk about cute girls,” Farrah continued, sitting back to lean against the wall, “tell ghost stories, play truth or dare...” She sat up straighter, and folded her arms. “Hey. Cowher. Truth or dare?”

He looked startled at the question. “What? I – uh, dare.”

Farrah stood up abruptly, and came over to join him on the couch. “Cool. I dare you to show me all of your research on cheating at blackjack.”

Colin rolled his eyes again, but went over to grab his laptop nonetheless. “Should’ve seen that one coming.”

“You really should have.” She waited until he rejoined her on the couch, and then moved over to look over his shoulder as he brought up a document on-screen. “Okay, hit me with it.”

Colin scrolled down through his notes, and gave her a brief rundown of how card counting worked, or was typically supposed to. “It doesn’t actually give you _that_ much of an advantage, but it tends to tip the odds in your favour as a player. Truth or dare?” he asked, so suddenly that Farrah was taken aback for a moment.

“Dare,” she said.

“Tell me what you’re planning. You’re being even more cryptic than usual, and I’m honestly kind of terrified.”

“That’s a truth, not a dare,” Farrah said flatly. “Your turn is forfeit. Keep going – how do you actually accomplish the card counting?”

“It’s hard to learn, or at least memorize.” He clicked over to the Wikipedia page on card counting. “Also, there’s a lot of methods of doing it. You’ve got to keep track in your head of which cards have already been dealt, and calculate what the probability of good-ranking cards coming up next it – complicated stuff.”

“I don’t think I can learn that tonight,” Farrah admitted. “This is kind of… next day urgent.”

“Yeah, I know. But I already figured this situation was less than hypothetical,” sighed Colin, leaning down to rummage in the space below the couch they were sitting on. “So. I may have rigged up some stuff. Working on the assumption that, you know, you’re actually going to be cheating at blackjack in the immediate future.”

She smiled. “You would be right.”

“Well, there you are.” He threw a shoebox with _SPY TIME_ scribbled across the top of it in thick black marker in her direction, and she caught it easily. It rattled as she did. Farrah raised an eyebrow at the label, but opened it anyway.

“Fancy,” she said, nodding approvingly at the contents. She lifted the smallest of them, a tiny mess of wires and circuits, out the foam that had been laid at the bottom of the shoebox, and inspected it. “An earpiece?”

“I just cracked open an AirPod and made sure it’d still work like that,” Colin admitted. He tapped his phone, lying on the nearby desk. “You’ve just got to have them connected to your phone in your pocket or whatever, and make sure you’re calling me at the time, and I can keep track of the cards for you and tell you when to bet higher.”

“And… a camera?” Farrah laid the earpiece down gingerly and picked up the other device – a tiny black box. “So you can keep track of the cards, of course.”

“It’s connected to my laptop too,” said Colin. “And I downloaded a program to help me cardcount, so we’ve got everything in one place.”

“Very nice,” Farrah admitted, laying the small camera down. “You’ve done a good job – this might actually work.”

“We’ve just got to find a way to hide that thing on you so I can see the cards at the table while you’re playing,” Colin agreed. “Also, that thing was twelve whole dollars on eBay. So if you break it, you’re paying for it.”

Farrah laughed. “Listen, Cowher. If this goes off as planned, I think I’ll be able to spare a dollar or two to pay for a shitty internet camera.”

She filled him in on the details as to what the Ring actually was, and almost immediately his vaguely self-satisfied expression suddenly dropped from his face, and he cleared his throat. “Truth or dare.”

“I never got a chance to do mine,” Farrah objected, placing the lid back onto the shoebox and setting it carefully aside for later.

“I’ll give you two turns later, if we keep playing, or, like. A double turn. Or something. Whatever. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Farrah sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Were you aware of the fact that gambling is almost completely illegal in the state of Utah?” he asked seriously, worrying at the corner of his shirt with the edge of his fingernail. “And even if it wasn’t. The minimum legal age is _twenty-one._ ” A pause. “It’s _properly_ illegal. Super illegal. We-might-actually-get-arrested illegal.”

Farrah hesitated, but only for a second. “Yes. I was aware.”

“Great,” he said. “Then –”

“But firstly – we’re not the ones running the Ring. They’re more likely to get arrested than we are. And secondly – and I would like to draw your attention to this rather important fact – _I don’t intend to get caught._ ”

“Nobody ever does,” Colin muttered.

“We’ve done plenty of illegal things before, you know,” Farrah said.

“I don’t like the cheerful way in which you say that.”

“It’s _true._ ”

“It’s true, but I don’t have to like it.”

Farrah sighed, and then stood up, pressing her lips together. “You’re going to be _thrilled_ with what we’re going to be doing next, then.”

“What?” Colin stood up too, almost reflexively. “Wait, _what_ are we doing?”

“Get in my car,” Farrah threw over her shoulder as she exited the trailer. “And stop asking stupid questions.”

* * *

 

**9 PM**

* * *

 

Farrah’s car pulled up smoothly, two streets away from Central Roscheter High School, and Farrah tugged up the handbrake.

“We’re breaking into the school?” Colin asked, watching as she pulled out her illicitly-appropriated masterkey to the school from her purse.

“I say again – we _have_ done it before,” Farrah said, tugging the key from the ignition. She stepped smoothly out of the car, slammed the door shut, and began striding purposefully towards the school. “Really, you shouldn’t be surprised at this point.”

Colin jumped out of the car as well, and trailed behind her. “Are we running a two-person campaign to see how just hard we can get arrested in the next week or so?”

“No, because you’re barely helping me. I’m doing the majority of the work here.” She glanced at him. “We’re not going to get arrested.”

They walked in silence to the school, which was more-or-less empty by this time of night – through the remainder of the lit windows, the only people that appeared to be inside were the cleaning staff. Farrah led Colin to the main building, and then around the side of it to a lesser-used, less obvious door – the metal of the lock coated with rust. She held up her key to it, nodded, and then set about trying to wedge it in.

“So what _exactly_ are we doing here?” Colin asked quietly. “Are we scoping out the Ring’s location before you officially go in?”

Farrah succeeded in jamming the key into the long-forgotten lock, and twisted it sharply. “No,” she said, and tugged the door open. “The actual room’s on the other side of the school.”

Colin held it open for her as she tucked away the key into her upper breast pocket. “Right. So…?”

Farrah swept into the school without a word to him, and began striding down the hallway leading to Central Administration like she owned the place. Colin sighed, and hurried after her, attempting to keep pace while switching on the pocket flashlight he had brought with him, somehow knowing he’d need it.

“I won’t lie; you’re actually scaring me slightly,” Colin said, when they had reached the general staffroom, and Farrah was fiddling with the lock. “Are you… you know, all right?”

“I need you to stand guard,” Farrah told him, opening the staffroom door. “Distract anybody that shows up, make some noise so I know if anybody’s coming.”

Colin audibly swallowed. “I – I’m gonna come with. It’s… really dark out here.”

“Yes. I know. It’s night. It tends to get dark at night.” She frowned. “Are you afraid of the dark, Cowher?”

“Not really, but…” He made an indistinct gesture with his hands. “It’s. Anxiety-inducing. You know.”

The side of her mouth curled very slightly in sympathy, but she shook her head. “I’ll only be a minute.”

“Farrah –“

She disappeared through the door. It shut with a _click_ and when he tried to open it, he found it had locked itself – or she had locked it herself. He mumbled something angry to himself, and leaned against the wall to wait for her, trying not to think too hard about whatever could be lurking out there.

Farrah was true to her word, and within only a minute or two, she re-emerged from the staff room. Strangely, she looked even grimmer than before, although it could have been just a trick of the shadows.

“Done?” Colin asked, pushing himself off the wall.

She nodded. “Let’s get out of here.”

Down the hallway, through the side door, and into the parking lot.

“What was it?” Colin asked, catching her elbow to slow her down. She twisted away from him, irritated. “Did you need to change a document to get out of class tomorrow?”

“I could have done that remotely.”

“Or… some sort of blackmail? For something else?”

“Cowher; truth or dare?”

“…tr – dare.”

“Shut the hell up for the next ten minutes,” Farrah said curtly.

He opened his mouth, and then shut it again, and then he stopped talking.

They made it to the car, which was only a three-minute walk from the school. Instead of starting it up and driving off as soon as they got into it, Farrah sat in silence in the driver’s seat for an excruciatingly long time while Colin tapped his fingers on the window awkwardly.

“Has it been ten minutes yet?” he asked eventually.

“No,” she said without looking at him.

A moment of hesitation. “I’m going to start talking again anyway.”

She laughed shortly. “I was surprised that you lasted that long, anyway.”

“Truth or dare.”

“Dare.”

“Show me what’s in your jacket pockets.”

She didn’t move for a very long moment, and then she leaned forward, shrugged off her jacket, and tossed it roughly across to him, before turning the car’s engine on and pulling away from the curb.

Colin fumbled with the jacket for a second, trying to find the pockets, and then located an inside zip-sealed one that was bulging slightly. He opened it, and pulled out the contents – papery, rectangular stacks – squinting slightly in the dim lights of the passing streetlights to see what it was.

It took him a good minute for it to finally click in his brain.

“Farrah what the _actual genuine goddamn hell FUCK._ ”

To her credit, she kept driving without even a twitch of emotion registering on her face.

“You –” Colin shoved the stacks and stacks of _fucking one hundred dollar bills_ back into the jacket, and kicked it to the floor of the passenger’s seat with something like revulsion. “ – you _robbed the school._ You robbed the principal. You – you _robbed my mom_. Farrah what the _fuck_ WHY.”

“We needed a startup loan,” Farrah said, far too calmly. “Something to get the ball rolling. I can’t walk into an underground gambling ring with twenty bucks and my lunchbox and expect to get several thousand dollars in cash out of it, can I?”

“I – you – Farrah, there is no _we_ about this!” Colin was nearly shouting now, fingernails digging into the palms of his clenched fists. “You stole, what, five thousand dollars from the school _while I was standing outside?_ ”

“Ten thousand.” Farrah’s eyes were fixed steadfastly on the road. “And I’m not going to keep it.”

“You think you just – as soon as you, I don’t know, win back everything – you can – walk back in and put it all back – ten thousand dollars!” Colin was almost at the point of hyperventilation now. “That’s… a _lot_ of money! Somebody’s going to notice! Wh – what if you lose it?!”

“Calm down.”

“D-don’t tell – tell me to – to calm… to calm…”

Farrah pulled over with a screech of brakes, threw on the handbrake, and spun to him, reaching out a hand to his shoulder, which he recoiled away from. “ _Calm down._ ”

Almost out of spite, he did – enough to articulate his thoughts semi-rationally. “We… the cameras. School security camera. They’ll have seen us.”

“I got Jayne to disrupt them,” Farrah said, expressionless. “Or loop them, or something. We’re fine.”

“We are _not_ fine,” he said, going to grab her arm. This time she was the one to pull away. “We are _so far removed from fine –_ Farrah, what if somebody _saw us?_ ”

“Nobody did. And even if they had, nobody would be suspicious of two teenagers going to school.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“We were collecting some forgotten homework,” Farrah said, entirely convincingly.

“ _In the middle of the night?!_ ”

“We’re _really_ enthusiastic about homework.”

“I’m also really enthusiastic about _not getting arrested._ ”

“We might die.”

“We might _not._ ”

There was a pause.

“What now?” he said into the darkness.

She started up the car again, and didn’t look at him. “Now, we go back to your place.”


	5. Chapter 5

**10 PM**

* * *

“Remember,” Farrah said in a low voice as they got out of the car. “Nothing happened. If we can get back to the trailer quick enough, we might be able to pretend we were there the entire – ”

“What’s going on?” came a voice from across the yard. “Farrah – Colin? Did you two go out?”

They exchanged equally panicked glances as they heard the distinctive sound of Colin’s mom approaching, and then Farrah’s hand shot out almost too quickly to be humanely possible, wrapping tightly around Colin’s shoulders.

She stepped into the light, pulling him along with her. “There was a party on tonight,” she said, entirely believably. “Jayne’s place. We finished most of biology project, so… I thought, why not? But…” She grimaced, and then glanced over at Colin sympathetically. “He had an anxiety attack.”

Colin caught on, and did his best to look exhausted and faintly ill, the way he usually did after an anxiety attack. It wasn’t hard, especially considering the circumstances. “Yeah,” he said. “There were… a lot of people.”

“Oh my god,” his mom said softly, and then pressed her lips together tightly, apparently unsure if to approach. “Honey – are you okay now? Why didn’t you call, I could have come to pick you up – Farrah, you didn’t need to leave the party –”

“Mom, I’m fine,” Colin muttered, trying to unwind Farrah’s arm from his shoulders, which was becomingly constrictively tight.

“Like  _hell_ you are,” she snapped with unexpected intensity, curling around him even tighter. She looked up at his mother. “I got him out as soon as I could. We would have called, but it got chaotic. I thought we should just get back to the house.”

She nodded. “That was the right thing to do. Farrah, I can’t thank you enough. I don’t know what I would have done if –”

“It’s fine. Honestly. He would have done the same for me.”

Farrah released Colin at last. He floundered for a moment, not understanding the sudden motion, before realizing that his mom was approaching. Without hesitation, she swept him into a tight, comforting hug. He squirmed self-consciously, and thankfully she untangled from the hug quite quickly – but she didn’t let him go. “My god, sweetie – ”

“I’m seriously fine!” he protested again.

“Sure you are,” she said, and looked up. “Farrah, if you want to go home – I can drive you if you’re feeling too tired – we’d completely understand.”

“No,” said Farrah. “I think I’ll stay, if that’s all right.”

“Of course it is,” said Colin’s mom. Her eyes looked slightly watery, and she kept rubbing at the fabric of his flannel jacket. He took a step away from her, embarrassed that she was showing affection towards him in front of Farrah. “If you two need anything… you were planning to sleep in the caravan tonight? Are you sure you don’t want to come inside?”

“It’s not that cold tonight,” Colin said abruptly, shaking his head. “We’ll… I… I need to go get some blankets, actually. Farrah, uh, I’ll meet you in the trailer. In a bit.”

“Okay,” she said, smiling easily, and waved at him as he moved in the direction of the house.

And with ten thousand dollars’ worth of money tucked into her jacket and a smile that practically screamed ‘trustworthy’, Farrah walked straight past the woman that she had stolen from without a twitch.

On some level, Colin had to admire her for that. On another, he was three degrees away from a total screaming breakdown,  _so._

It took him nearly ten minutes of pacing in the bathroom to break himself out of the terrified loop that his mind was set in, and even then, he couldn’t stop thinking of all the ways that the situation could go wrong.

He got changed into his least-embarrassing set of pyjamas, splashed cold water on his face, and then grabbed a blanket and a few pillows from his bedroom before heading outside again with all the grimness of a condemned man walking to his death.

He passed his mom as he made his way outside – she was going in the same direction as he was, and was carrying two mugs of something hot and steaming.

“Hot chocolate,” she said in response to his questioning look, and bumped his arm with her shoulder. “You guys looked like you needed it.”

“Thanks,” he said quietly, and let her lead the way and knock open the trailer’s broken door with a foot.

He heard her place the mugs down, exchange some quick words with Farrah, and then emerge. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

“Thanks,” he repeated, and then entered, dumping the blankets down onto the couch, and shutting the door properly without looking at Farrah, who was lying on her own bedroll, scrolling through something on her mobile phone.

“You know, I’ll never really get over that,” she said offhandedly. He looked at her finally. She was propping herself up against a embroidered pillow that she had to have brought with her – he didn’t own anything that sparkly. “Your mom and the principal seem like completely separate people most days, but then she does things like  _this._ ” She indicated the hot chocolate. “It’s  _bizarre._ ”

“We’re doing this, then?” he said, and sat down on the couch.

Her fingers stalled over the phone’s screen. “Doing what?”

“Evading. Pretending it didn’t happen. Pretending that there’s not,” his voice lowered, “ _ten thousand dollars’_ worth of stolen money lining your jacket pockets right now.”

Farrah was silent. She had changed out of the clothes she had been wearing all day, he noticed, and into bike shorts and a loose, oversized t-shirt that bore the legend  _KEEP THE LEAP_ in faded print, as well as thigh-high striped socks. Colin, despite himself, couldn’t help admiring how effortlessly flawless she looked.

“Do you  _want_ to talk about it?” she asked eventually, staring down at her sock-clad feet.

He tucked his knees up to his chin, and sighed, long and hard. “Not really. You?”

“God, no.” A pause. “It’s – it’s not like I  _wanted_ to, Colin. I’m going to give it back, as soon as I can. And I know that stealing money from other people’s mothers isn’t something that a nice person, or a well-adjusted person, or a  _good_ person does, but…” She pressed her lips together very tightly, and then fell back against the pillows. “It’s for Jayne. It’s all for Jayne. I have to keep telling myself that.” And then, almost so quietly he couldn’t even hear it: “I’d do the same for you.”

Colin was wildly aware that he was probably being manipulated shamelessly, but that didn’t stop the tiny jolt in his heart and the sudden, tentative thought of  _oh wow, maybe she actually does care about me_ , for going off in his head.

“You’re not a bad person,” he said, and reached for the mugs of hot chocolate. “And, even if you were… I’m your moral compass, remember?” He handed her one, careful not to spill any, and retreated back to the couch, taking a sip of his own.

Slowly, faintly, she smiled. She raised the mug to her lips, and drank deeply.

“Truth or dare?” she asked when she had finished.

“Truth,” he said.

“Do you trust me?”

He was silent for a moment or two, staring at the ceiling. At some point, Farrah must have dimmed the lights, because the fairy lights strung up all around the interior weren’t as bright as they usually were.

“Yeah,” he said eventually. “God help me. I know you’re probably going to fuck me over completely someday, maybe tomorrow, but – I do trust you.”

He heard her exhale sharply, and then silence fell upon them once more.

They didn’t speak for the rest of the evening, and somewhere around midnight, he heard her breathing even out. But he didn’t sleep – not for a very long time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're back, baby!

**Wednesday**

**7 AM**

* * *

 

Colin woke up to a pillow hitting the side of his face, hard. Seconds after his eyes shot open, another pillow landed a hit, glancing off the side of his arm.

He fumbled for his glasses, but only succeeded in finding another pillow. He weighed it in one hand for a moment, decided to consider it a success, and lobbed it back in the direction that the previous cushioned projectiles had been coming from.

“Put on your glasses; you have lousy aim,” came the sardonic reply. He groaned loudly, and did so, squinting blearily at the clock on the wall.

“Farrah, it’s too early for this,” he protested, sitting up on the couch. His back was stiff and sore and his neck felt as if it would break if he moved it even the slightest amount.

She just shook her head, and violently tossed another pillow at him. “We’ve got work to do.” Somehow, she had already gotten up – her bedroll was packed away, as were most of her other belongings. She was still in her pyjamas, though, which seemed slightly odd to Colin.

“But –”

Another pillow connected with his head.

“Okay, _fine,_ goddamnit – give me a minute…”

A few minutes later, he was sitting at his desk, trying to connect the earpiece device and miniature camera with Farrah’s phone, and in turn, his computer.

“We still need to talk properly about last night,” he told her darkly. She was rustling around behind him, and had told him not to look just yet – he was honouring the request, partly out of fear.

“Sure,” she said. “But later.”

He hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. It was no use attempting to change Farrah’s mind about going through with the plan now – not when she had so clearly made it up already. And any arguing at this point just increased the likelihood that they would get distracted at a crucial point in the plan, and therefore caught. “For sure later.”

The light on the side of the camera blinked green briefly, and the video feed window popped up on-screen. “Ha! We’re live.”

“The audio?” He heard Farrah approaching from behind, and then her hands on the back of his chair.

“Nearly done.” He messed around with her phone for a moment or two, looked up at the screen, and nodded. “Okay,” he said, pushing her hands and then spinning around in his chair, “we’re done with – _whoa._ ”

She was wearing a stunningly form-fitting black cocktail dress, because of course she was. It was exceedingly _extra_ on a level that only Farrah could successfully pull off on a school morning.

“Stop staring and zip me up,” she said, evidently annoyed. She lifted her hair up as he hurried to comply, and waited for him to pull the zipper to the top. As soon as he did so, she spun away neatly, already adjusting it with one hand and pulling on the kitten heels that she had left on the floor nearby up until now with the other. “All right,” she said, mid-way into doing up the straps. “How are we doing this?”

“We hide the headphone under your hair,” Colin said, holding it out to her. “If we turn down the volume far enough, nobody will be able to tell it’s there.”

She nodded, and dropped her remaining shoe for a moment, long enough to slip it into her right ear and make sure it was secure. “And the camera?”

“We’re gonna have to put it somewhere where I can see the cards.” Colin considered for a long moment, and then tapped his chest. “There’s button holes on your dress. Mom’s got a sewing kit in the house.”

Farrah wrinkled her nose at him. “You can’t sew a camera to a dress, Cowher.”

Colin almost stuck his tongue out in return, but restrained himself. “Yeah, but she’s also got Velcro.”

The trip to the main house took less than ten minutes, and Colin thankfully didn’t run into his mother on the way. There was a note on the kitchen table, however, and it was addressed to him.

 _Left for school already. Scrambled eggs are in the fridge, help yourself. You can stay home today if you want, sweetie, you looked bad last night. Tell Farrah that she is under no circumstances to skip school, though – I_ am _the principal, after all._

_Love you xox_

He tucked the adhesive Velcro strips into his pocket, went to find the eggs and some orange juice for them to share, then returned to Farrah, who was now applying her makeup with terrifying speed and precision.

“So I get to stay home from school today,” he said. “But you don’t, on semi-serious pain of death.”

“Cool. I was planning to go anyway,” Farrah said off-handedly.

“Also, my mom made breakfast. And I brought juice.”

She glanced over her shoulder, and her eyebrows raised incrementally. “Now I almost feel bad about robbing her.”

Colin bit his lip, and set one of the plates that he had brought with him down on the communal table. He picked up the camera, and started fiddling around with the Velcro without saying anything.

“Oh,” said Farrah, lifting her breakfast dish delicately onto her lap. “Too soon?”

“Too soon,” he told her flatly.

“Whoops.” She didn’t sound very sorry, but Colin didn’t look up to see if her face reflected sincerity or not.

He buried himself in trying to unpeel the backing of the adhesive strip, and, a few minutes later, heard the sound of Farrah’s empty plate clattering on the table. He finished sticking it in place, and slid the other half of the strip, as well as the camera itself, across to her. He busied himself with eating his own breakfast as she popped out a button and wiggled it into place in the background.

“Done?” he asked, stacking his cleared plate on top of hers.

“Done.” She glanced up. The camera was nearly invisible, and the earpiece was all but completely so. “Let’s test it.”

He started up his computer, and ran the cheating and filming software he had downloaded, as Farrah dug out a battered pack of playing cards from one of her bags.

“Okay,” she said, sitting on the floor and dealing cards onto the low-level coffee table that was the centrepiece of the room. “Let’s say the table’s at about belly-level…”

Colin made some adjustments to the camera and focus from his laptop, and frowned. “Tilt it down a little.” She obliged, and he shook his head. “Even if the table’s higher up, we’ll need the camera closer to the table anyway. You’ll have to move it down a hole.”

“Goddamnit.” Farrah sighed. “Fine, grab a needle and some thread. I’ll have to fix up the button I just popped, otherwise it’ll look suspicious.”

Five more minutes, and Colin was back – this time with the entire sewing kit; not wanting to take any chances. Farrah did a surprisingly efficient job of repairing the self-inflicted damage to her dress and shifting the camera lower.

“Attempt two,” she said when the sewing kit was packed away. She dealt a fresh hand onto the coffee table, more for dramatic effect than anything else, and picked up another card to hold in her one hand. “Well?”

“Bit higher.” He waited as Farrah tilted it downwards, and then nodded. “Yeah, that’s perfect. As long as you’re about that level…”

“Got it.”

They fiddled around with the cards for a while, and worked out a simplified way for them to cheat at blackjack without words, and then Farrah announced that she had to go in order to make it to school on time.

“Call me about ten minutes before you head in properly,” Colin told her, holding open the door for her to leave through. She finished pulling on her coat, and picked up her backpack, nodding.

“I’ll come back to pick up the rest of my stuff later,” she said, indicating the small pile of bags in the corner of the trailer. “Don’t touch anything.”

He sighed, and waited for her to leave.

“Aren’t you going to wish me good luck?” she asked.

“You have far too much of that already. Doing that would be jinxing it.”

“Fair point. See you later, then.”

* * *

 

**9 AM**

* * *

 

 **COLIN  
** how goes it

 **FARRAH  
** I’m in class rn

 **COLIN  
** o.o what happened to you-know-what???

 **FARRAH**  
The invitation was for lunch   
I know what I’m doing

 **COLIN**  
great  
three more hours to kill

 **FARRAH  
** wyd

 **COLIN  
** drafting a crotch post and watching howtobasic on endless autoplay

 **FARRAH  
** wow

 **COLIN  
** yeah i’ve lost control of my life

 **FARRAH**  
I’ll leave you to it  
Mr Bainfield looks like he wants to murder me personally for texting in class

 **COLIN**  
wouldn’t want to die before the cops arrest you I guess  
have fun in lit

 **FARRAH  
** I won’t, thanks

* * *

**12 PM**

* * *

Farrah excused herself from class fifteen minutes before lunch, and began to head towards the second oldest building in the school – now used for the music department – with a single-minded intent. As she walked, she tugged her phone out of her jacket and dialed Colin’s number before dropping it back into her pocket.

He picked up instantly, like he had been waiting for her call. “ _Finally,_ ” said his voice, painfully loud through her earpiece. “ _I had started watching Minecraft Let’s Play videos in my boredom._ ”

“Oh dear god, what depths have you sunk to?” Farrah said sardonically, turning down the volume, and then frowned when he didn’t reply. She fiddled with the earpiece for a second, and then realized that it didn’t have a built-in microphone. Frowning deeper, she pulled out her phone again, holding it closer to her mouth. “We… have a problem.”

There was a beat as Colin absorbed this. “ _Oh god. What did we miss._ ”

“The earpiece doesn’t have a microphone – only the phone does. And I can’t carry it around with me when I’m actually _in_ the Ring.”

“ _So… I can only talk to you; you can’t talk back?”_

“Exactly.”

“ _That’s actually not that bad,_ ” Colin said after a moment of consideration. “ _You weren’t planning on talking to me anyway; it would be way too obvious._ ”

“Yes, but some of the cues of the game might end up being verbal.” Farrah’s fingers went _tap-tap-tap_ against the side of the phone. Unforeseen complications at the last minute were never a good thing.

“ _You could put the phone in your pocket?_ ”

“Okay, first of all, that’s too risky – they might search me or something, I don’t know.” She frowned. “Second of all, this fucking dress doesn’t have pockets anyway.”

“ _What? That sucks. How are you supposed to carry out infiltration missions in a dress with no pockets?_ ”

“I know, it’s _terrible_. The dress itself is cute as hell, but every time I wear it I want to murder whoever designed it in their sleep.”

“ _Shit. Shit, uh… okay. We’ll just have to roll with it. As long as I can pick up on the cards, I think I can roll with it. I’m switching the camera on, by the way._ ”

“All right.” There was a faint surge of heat on her skin as the camera turned on, but it quickly became cool again; nearly unnoticeable.

“ _Can we use non-verbal cues? Via the camera, I mean? Do you know ASL?”_

“No,” said Farrah. “Do you?”

“ _…no._ ”

“Well, that’s another excellent plan for the scrap pile.”

“ _It might have been a bit suspicious, really,”_ Colin admitted. There was a faint rustling noise from his end. “ _It’s lunch in five minutes. Are you heading in?”_

“Yeah,” she said after checking the time herself. “Is everything set?”

“ _Yeah – oh shit!_ ” he exclaimed suddenly, making her jump slightly – not that she would have ever admitted it. “ _You brought the money, right?_ ”

“Oh my god, I forgot,” she deadpanned, and then started walking as she listened to the rather delightful sound of him starting to all-out panic for a second or two. “I’m joking. I’m joking. I brought the money. I’m putting the phone away now,” she added as a warning, and then did just that, stuffing it into the back flap of her backpack.

“ _All right,_ ” said Colin belatedly. There were a few minutes of silence between them while Farrah crossed the long, grassy field separating the science and music buildings. As she reached the sidewalk on the other side, he spoke up again. “ _Where’s this gambling place supposed to be, anyway? I only heard about it yesterday, and that was because I was looking specifically for something like it. They’d have to be pretty good at keeping hidden if neither of us caught wind of it before now._ ”

Farrah opened her mouth to respond, and then closed it again, sighing, when she realized that he probably wouldn’t be able to hear her anyway.

“ _Oh. Right. You probably can’t hear me,_ ” said Colin after another pause. “ _Wait, where are you anyway? Is that the music building?_ ”

Farrah reached the entrance to the building itself, which was a short flight of stone stairs leading up to a set of double doors. Instead of ascending the stairs, she turned left, hitching up the hem of her dress with one hand and ducking behind a series of bushes and small trees. She moved around the side of the building and emerged in front of a small maintenance door with no visible handle. She leaned down, and knocked three times, confidently.

“ _What,”_ Colin said, “ _wait, seriously? You’re sure you have the right place?_ ”

Almost immediately in response to her, three knocks returned hers, but from the other side of the door. Farrah raised a thumbs-up in front of the camera, and then said, very clearly in the direction of the door, “adulthood is hell.”

The door opened inwards and downwards, and a voice from inside said, rather impatiently, “well, come on in then.”

Farrah smiled, and climbed through just as the lunch bell rang.


End file.
